


Promises Among Flowers

by MissKi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dedue wouldn’t leave Dimitri right after, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Fluff, Post-Timeskip, Promises, Support Cutscene Rewrite, you can’t change my mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 01:16:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKi/pseuds/MissKi
Summary: Byleth and Dedue promised their lives after the war to each other, but their determination to end that very war challenges their future.A reimagining of Dedue and Byleth’s relationship after the A support cutscene through post-game.





	Promises Among Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queenowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenowl/gifts).

_ On several occasions, I have seen you protect others by putting yourself in harm’s way. _

Byleth pushed Mercedes out of the way and braced against an incoming  _ Thoron _ . The dark magic struck her sword arm, and pain lanced into her shoulder and chest, forcing her down onto one knee. Fort Merceus was living up to its name as the impregnable fortress. The defensive weaponry made it difficult to move deeper into the enemy line, and their front line was suffering for it. Hopefully this time around, Byleth could make all the right moves to protect her allies and finish the fight. 

_ I feel like you should place a higher value on your own life. _

“Professor, I’ve got you! Quickly!” Mercedes’ healing magic enveloped Byleth in a green glow. It eased enough of the pain for Byleth to stand up and slip back into a low fighting stance. There was no time to kill the warrior in front of her, though; instead she blocked his next attack with her left forearm. As his axe blade cut into her flesh through her metal gauntlet, she threw out her right arm and extended the Sword of the Creator. Her aim was true, and her blade speared through a mage.

_ His Highness relies on you… As do I. _

The fallen mage’s almost-ready  _ Bolganone _ fizzled out in crimson sparks. Dimitri, oblivious to what should have been his doom, continued spearing enemies around him in a frenzy. Byleth flicked her gaze back to her opponent. Her left arm was now too injured to be of any use, but she had everything else at her disposal. As her enemy lifted his axe back up and prepared to bring it down on her shoulder, she tumbled to the right and swiped at his legs. Her sword extended and sliced both of her opponent’s ankles, and she was rewarded with an anguished roar. His distraction allowed her enough time to dodge around him and cast a quick  _ Fire _ . 

“Sylvain, back!” Byleth shouted. The Great Knight followed her command instantly and dodged backwards away from the thief he was fighting. Byleth’s  _ Fire _ caught the thief by surprise, having attacked him from outside his field of vision. Sylvain capitalized on the opening and dispatched the wounded enemy without delay. A high-pitched scream from Byleth’s side caught her attention, and her focus faltered. The last three times this exact scene unfolded Annette was fine, so what was different in this reality? The mage was dead, the thief was dead, the warrior was - 

Her eyes narrowed in realization right before an axe swung into her stomach, knocking her to the ground. Byleth wasted too much time defending her former students, and her own opponent had gained the upper hand.

_ And… this greenhouse would be a more lonely place without you in it.  _

Byleth struggled to stand - she couldn’t get enough air to breathe properly, maybe a broken rib or two - before the next blow came. Crouching down on one knee, she raised her sword arm to block the axe as it swung towards her. In her vulnerable state her strength wouldn’t let her fight back, but she couldn’t let herself fall here. She reached inside her conscience and drew on her major Crest of Flames. It was enough; a few traded blows later, Byleth stood victorious over the axe-wielder.

_ Someday, I hope to show you a landscape of these flowers in full bloom. _

A sigh worked its way through Byleth’s lips, unbidden, as she closed her eyes. It took eight uses of Divine Pulse to get them all through this battle relatively unscathed. There were still more charges available, but each successive Divine Pulse drained more energy and focus out of her. She would need to lay low for a few days to recuperate following this fight. Luckily the battle sounds around her had lessened. The end was in sight. 

Mercedes bounded over to her. “Sorry I’m late, Professor! I used up too many  _ Physics _ on Dimitri. Let me patch your arm up now,” she offered. Byleth nodded and allowed Mercedes to cautiously take her arm and inspect it. “Professor, I can’t heal this completely, but I can stop the bleeding and prevent infection. The battle is almost over, so you’ll just have to relax and take it easy on our way back. That’s my official prescription, so you have to follow it, okay?” Mercedes smiled mischievously at Byleth.

“Javelin!” Dedue shouted across the field. 

_ Once this conflict is over, and his Highness ascends the throne... _

Mercedes spun around to look for the incoming projectile and dropped into a crouch instinctively. Byleth, still unsteady on her feet from exhaustion, was slower. Too slow. 

A short spear pierced through Byleth’s vulnerable midsection. As a sword user, she found extra armor there to be bulky and cumbersome, which was extremely detrimental to her fluid fighting style. There was nothing she regretted more in this moment than choosing once again to not wear her armor that day.

_ You must live at least until then. _

Well, almost nothing. There was the almost-promise to the self-titled Man of Duscur. She hated going back on her word, which is why she avoided making promises. Byleth felt inside herself for her crest’s power, but the tendrils of power slipped through her fingers. And again. And again. She had spent many pulses and rewound time too much with almost every one, but there was no way around it when they were up against such a daunting stronghold, with enemies at all the right places. How untasteful it would be to break a promise to Dedue, Dimitri’s ever-faithful vassal - and more recently, her stoic companion.

_ Understood? _

People surrounded her, trying to catch her attention. Green eyes, blue eyes, red hair, white hair. Or was it green grass, blue sky, red flowers, white hair? Beautiful. The fields of Duscur were beautiful after all. Her world faded to darkness.

\---

Strong sunlight streamed in through the window. Byleth raised a hand to cover her eyes. She enjoyed the sun, truly, but not when it was shining through her eyelids with a tenacity matching Ashe’s desire for justice. She lifted her other arm to slide under her pillow. Or rather, she intended to. As soon as she moved her arm, she noticed the dull ache emanating from said arm.

The battle. Memories started flooding back to her. Feelings of shame and guilt soon followed.

Clearly she learned nothing from her failure to use Divine Pulse five years ago when she fell off that cliff. How much time had passed this time? She listened to her surroundings carefully.

Birds chirped. Wind rustled the leaves in the trees. But were there inhabitants in the monastery still? Yes, she could hear weapons clashing in the distance, but the din of battle - screams, spells, terror - was absent. Training grounds, then. There were steps coming closer to her door. A visitor?

Knuckles rapped briefly on her door before her visitor opened the door and let himself into the room with her. Her visitor was none other than the man who had been on her mind lately with growing fondness: Dedue. He was holding a plain, green vase filled with vibrant sunflowers in his hands. The armored man placed the vase on her bedside table before sitting down in a chair next to her. He sighed, then met her curious gaze. 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Professor, you’re awake. Allow me to fetch Mercedes.” He pushed his chair back, preparing to stand up.

“Stay a moment,” Byleth wheezed out, voice hoarse with disuse. She cleared her throat and looked at him expectantly.

Dedue paused, weighing his options. In the end he pulled his chair closer. Byleth closed her eyes briefly and felt her lips curve a fraction in amusement. They all trusted her orders so completely, to the point they overrode their own judgement, yet she was no longer their professor or their senior. But Byleth could dwell on this later; she should find out the results of their battle and the current standings of their forces.

Byleth opened her eyes to meet Dedue’s. She waited for him to speak. Minutes passed. 

How unusual. He was never a man of many words and rarely repeated himself, but his hesitancy to update her on the mission was strange. She tilted her head in question.

In answer he lowered his face, wearing an unknown expression. “My apologies, Professor. After the enemy was subdued, a lone lancer hiding in some brush managed to launch a short lance towards you and Mercedes. Annette believes he amplified the distance it traveled with some wind magic. His Highness…” Dedue paused before making eye contact again. “Dealt with the lancer. Our forces suffered minimal losses. Our vanguard is around 95% of its former strength. Ashe, Felix, and His Highness received some minor injuries they were already treated for.”

Not bad for a fight with forces that countered theirs. They would be able to regroup for the final offense towards Enbarr without much delay. The end of the war - hopefully - was soon approaching. Byleth nodded to thank him for the update, and the room lapsed back into silence. She took the opportunity to observe her visitor. Puckered scars decorated his tanned face. The newest one was on the left side of his jaw, the bright pink of new skin striking a stark contrast with his tanned skin. Nobody else at the monastery wore evidence of their battles as brazenly. Facial wounds deep enough to scar like that were rare, because if someone had a weapon that close to your head, it was usually a death sentence. But this man of Duscur was in that exact situation a number of times. Truthfully, all of them had been; it was the reality of war. Even recently, she herself -

“I will bring Mercedes now. Please excuse me.” Dedue pushed his chair back and exited the room, but paused on his way out the door to speak his parting words. “I cannot be by your side in battle, Professor, so do not forget your promise to me.” Byleth’s throat constricted when she heard his quiet reminder, and she only managed a whisper of a response after he left.

“You as well.” 

\---

“What is the meaning of this?” The tremble in Byleth’s voice gave away her anger. There must be a reasonable explanation for the scene in front of her. Dedue and a few of Dimitri’s knights were seated at a table covered with crest stones. Linhardt, her lone recruit from the Black Eagles five years ago, was leaning against a library shelf. At her question, he walked out of the room wordlessly and gave her a look heavy with implication as he passed her. 

It was exactly as she feared, then. She took a deep breath and dismissed the knights before taking a seat across from Dedue. It was the eve before they set out for Edelgard. Of course Dedue would be concerned about Dimitri, considering his position as vassal and his unwavering dedication to him, but stripping good men of their humanity? Not allowing them to die with dignity on the battlefield? Then again, was there ever something like that?

Yes, Byleth reasoned, there must be. There was no other description for how Rodrigue died on the battlefield other than ‘with dignity.’

This was the last obstacle to ensuring Dimitri ascended the throne, and the entire journey of despair, betrayal, and anger would be for naught if they all failed at this crucial moment in time. But that did not mean they could wipe the lives of their own soldiers so easily, without a care for their souls. And even if an army of demonic beasts came to pass, she would never abide Dedue throwing away his future. Not he who had sacrificed everything else already. Not the man who cared gently for the flowers in the greenhouse. Not the one who promised her his life after Dimitri.

“Why do you distrust me?” Byleth questioned.

Dedue stammered, taken aback by this line of questioning. “I- I do not understand.”

“Do you have so little faith in me that you would go behind my back - the army tacticians’ backs - and devise a new plan?” Byleth kept her voice even and face blank. If she could convince him that logically, this was unnecessary and dangerous, he would listen. Linhardt might have tried already, but he was too abrasive and lacked her authoritative position, which Dedue has always inherently responded to.

Dedue’s jaw clenched with resolve. “It is not a question of faith. I trust you with my life, as does His Highness.” Perhaps coming at this from an angle of trust was a misstep.

Byleth leaned forward. “Then why do you sabotage me?”

“This victory must be obtained. There is no option for failure. I will do whatever I can, no matter the cost, to ensure His Highness achieves his vision,” Dedue explained, “I am a tool and this is my use.”

“And you think the rest of our troops would take kindly to their comrades turning into black beasts?” Byleth’s facade was starting to crack, and she started speaking faster. “You think it would fill them with confidence as their leaders screamed in agony? That they could focus on their enemies as a fate worse than death threatened them? You think you can control those corrupted beasts? You figure Dimitri would be fine losing you a second time, right before his eyes? And as if I could-” Byleth cut off mid-sentence. This was not the path she wanted to take this conversation down. 

Dedue remained seated, brow furrowed as he scrutinized her face. What he was looking for, she had no idea. Instead she pled her case again. “This is against everything Dimitri and the Kingdom stand for, and if he wins like this, all of Fodlan will stand in the way of his reforms.”

Silence. Not a defiant silence, for she could see him thinking through her reasoning, but a contemplative one. One last push, then. She stood to leave, but gave an order: “Take the crest stones back from those you distributed them to. Return them to my room this evening so I can store them in the cathedral’s crypt for protection before we march. Understood?”

A pause. His eyes never left hers as he answered, “Yes, Archbishop.”

She felt the distance expand between them at his use of her soon-to-be title. It hurt, but she had reached him. How far he chose to push her away after the fact didn’t matter. He would stay alive through the next battle, no matter how eager he was to throw down his life - she swore it. He had sworn it, too, at one point. Perhaps a reminder was in order. 

“See that you do not forget your promise to me, either.” She left quickly, before she could see his reaction, too afraid of what she would find. She missed the sight of the unshakeable knight sitting before the crest stones, silent and alone. 

When she returned to her room later that night, she found the crest stones resting on her bed and a fresh hyacinth in her vase. A Duscurian flower, famously created by a God who deeply regretted accidentally killing an innocent. Sorrow and rebirth.

\---

“Well Professor, you certainly took your time. Getting out of shape, talking to nobility all day long?” Felix mocked. “I happen to be free for a spar-” The swordsman was cut off by a red-haired man throwing arm over his shoulder.

“Aw, Felix, you can’t say such things to a lady! Especially when they’re not true in the slightest.” Sylvain winked flirtatiously at Byleth, avoiding the glare directed at him as Felix shrugged off his arm.“It’s good to see you again, Professor. It really has been a long time. A year is too long!” 

“I’m glad to see you both. How are the others?” Byleth questioned.

“Why don’t you ask them yourself? Right this way, my lady.” Sylvain performed an exaggerated bow, which earned him a jab in the arm from Felix.

“It just never stops with you, does it?” Felix shook his head in annoyance. 

“I have no idea what you mean!” Sylvain laughed and dodged the kick that came from his friend easily, as if they had performed this same routine many times. Knowing them, Byleth was sure they had.

She followed the two through the halls of Fhirdiad’s castle to its dining hall, where all her former Blue Lion students were waiting for her - even those she had recruited from the Golden Deer. When they noticed her, the hall was filled with a chorus of greetings. She smiled. She was with her treasured students once more.

After the long afternoon of feasting turned into a long evening of socializing, Byleth was exhausted. It had taken longer than she liked to travel to Fhirdiad from Garreg Mach. Now that she was the Archbishop, she had to come to terms with it. Travelling with a guard would always be slower than her childhood rides with her father on horseback. 

She clutched her robes tighter to her body. Faerghus was not her usual environment, and the lack of sun only amplified the chill in the air. It was worth the discomfort for the view, however. She was standing in an open-air garden, admiring the clear night sky. The stars were lovely tonight, as were the carefully cultivated flowers. 

“Professor.” A baritone voice called out to her from behind. Dedue, she recognized. Outside of an official welcome from him and Dimitri when she first arrived, she hadn’t seen either of them. Presumably they wanted to allow her time for a reunion with her former students, since Dimitri would monopolize her tomorrow for negotiations, and the day after she was scheduled to travel to Gautier territory with Sylvain. 

She turned around to greet him. “Good evening, Dedue. Here for the flowers?” She smiled gently, remembering their countless meetings in the greenhouse at the monastery. Those stolen moments away from battles and obligations felt like a lifetime ago.

“Not particularly.” Dedue’s stance was relaxed as he came to stand next to Byleth. The past year had treated him well. His face was still scarred, but the deep lines had lessened. Even though his posture was less rigid than before, he appeared taller. Less afraid to be himself, perhaps. “I’m here to keep my oath and promise.”

Byleth’s eyes widened. It truly was a lifetime ago when he swore that oath to her. She tilted her head up and studied the stars. “The stars are beautiful tonight, much as they were seven years ago.”

“Yes, they are,” Dedue agreed, “but the most beautiful one is right here.” Byleth’s breath caught in her throat. Unexpected words, and an unusual tone of voice - quiet and shaky. She looked over in a concern.

Her lips parted in surprise. The only way she could interpret his expression… He was looking at her with reverence, like she was the Goddess born again, or the panacea to all illnesses - or both. 

“I intend to leave His Majesty’s service come this time next year.” Dedue stated.

“What? Why would you do that?” Byleth was extremely concerned now. Never in a million moons would she have expected that phrase to willingly leave his mouth.

Dedue dropped to one knee before her and pulled out a silver ring inlaid with a single emerald. “I am asking for your hand in marriage. I adore you. I understand that as Archbishop, you cannot take marriage lightly, but I cannot leave these words unspoken. May I have your answer?” A blush dusted his cheeks throughout his proposal, and Byleth was enchanted.

“I accept.” She felt her cheeks heat up, but couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed. They were a matching pair, blush for blush. 

“You do?” He hesitated. “I am not good with words, and I have not always been considerate of you. Would you really have me, as flawed as I am?”

Byleth beamed and held out a hand, helping him up. “I would have you just as you are.”

“I see,” he chuckled. Byleth startled. Self-consciously, he asked, “Why are you making that face? Is it so odd to see me smile?”

She shook her head. “You have a wonderful smile.” As her fiancé averted his eyes and blushed, she felt her chest swell with emotion. The two of them had made it through the trials and tribulations their paths had put them through. And now, they had traversed through the mire of war and emerged onto a road to a new beginning, a brighter future, for Fodlan - for them, together for all the days to come.

\---

_ “I know it is sudden, but will you prepare to depart on a journey?” _

A year had passed since their engagement, and so Dedue had left King Dimitri’s service - on temporary leave, Byleth insisted, rather than retirement - to take his fiancée on their honeymoon. It was non-traditional to have the honeymoon before the ceremony, but Dedue had insisted and she offered no resistance. It made little difference to her as long as they would be wed. The two of them had been on the road to Duscur for a few days now, an uncharacteristically slow journey; Byleth travelled slower out of consideration for Dedue and his intense aversion to horses. The time they spent together was precious, whether it was running through the rain from inn to inn to find an available room or settling down for an evening meal in front of a warm fire. 

The closer the pair travelled to their destination, however, the more unsettled Dedue became. Comfortable silences and companionship became awkward when Byleth said something only to realize Deude was far away in his thoughts. This happened often, especially as they crossed the border into Duscur’s former territory. She tried to be understanding, but couldn’t figure out the true nature of his emotions. Was he heartbroken? Regretful? Angry? Embarrassed?

The little towns and charming inns were long gone. There were encampments close to the border, but he was leading her deeper into the peninsula. They came across some nomadic Duscurians, but no others. One afternoon, he stopped their horses at a well. He tied them to a nearby post while she pulled up water for them to drink. 

“This is where my town used to stand,” Dedue declared. He gestured towards different spots in the grassy field as they walked around. He pointed out where he and his sisters had won a kite-flying contest, and where his father’s forge once was. He spoke to Byleth like a man possessed, unable to stop the words tumbling out of his mouth. 

_ “To show you the flowers as they are meant to be seen, in my homeland.” _

And then they walked to the edge of his home. It was on the ridge of a valley, overlooking a babbling brook nestled in a field of flowers. She was enthralled. Her partner stood in front of her, gazing at his homeland, with a backdrop of blooming colors. A breeze tickled her hair, and she took a moment to fix it. When she looked up again, Dedue was standing in the same spot. This time, however, he was turned towards her. 

“Byleth. Now you witness Duscur, and the nothing it has become. This is all that I am,” he quieted. 

“Let us rebuild it, then. It will take time, but that is a luxury we have earned.” She knew of the long, grueling hours of convincing nobles lay ahead, with roadblocks at every turn. It would double her workload as Archbishop if she focused on internal Faerghus affairs, especially if the goal was to remove the entrenched discrimination towards Duscur. Yet despite this foresight, she had no reservations. It could be - would be - done. 

She was rewarded with a tender smile as he reached a hand out for her. “Knowing this, will you allow me to spend the rest of my days with you, asteri mou?”

My star. What a fitting endearment. She loved it - and him. 

She stepped into his arms and settled into his familiar embrace. “I promise,” she agreed cheerfully. This was one promise she wouldn’t need to be reminded of, she knew, as they looked forward into the future. Their future. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments mean the world to me. 
> 
> I was dissatisfied with the S support cutscene where Dedue withdrew from Dimitri’s service and the end card where they didn’t talk about restoring Duscur so this happened. I adore Dedue (all of the Blue Lions really), so this was fun to write. 
> 
> I’m making the assumption here that Duscur is loosely based off of Greece, considering Dedue’s last name and the polytheism, hence the hyacinth reference and pet name. 
> 
> Credit to my lovely SO for pointing out Byleth could’ve stopped Dedue from using crest stones in the BL route.
> 
> {And credit to the lovely queenowl and their Bydue collection for reminding me how much I love these two together.)


End file.
